But what if you trade one needle for another?
by tinypicklerick
Summary: Minerva talks to Sirius about something she's worried about. Quick one shot. Mentions of eating disorders and drug abuse.


"But what if you trade one needle for another?" Gone was the boy that managed to look mischievous every minute of the day, replaced by an unreadable young man. The look on his face contrasted so heavily with his normal expression that the woman in front of him wondered how much of him she hadn't ever taken the time to notice.

The silence stretched uncomfortably long. She didn't know what to say or tell him to make things better. A long time ago she had promised herself to make life as easy as possible for her students, to help them resolve their problems before they became too big to handle. This, however, was a problem that couldn't be resolved with a few of her words or any action she could think of to undertake. If his words hadn't shaken her to the core as much as they had the look in his eyes probably would have.

They had known of his troubles of course. Physical injuries were hardly a problem in their world because spells and potions could fix almost anything. Henceforth it was almost mindboggling how limited the healers' knowledge was on mental illnesses. Still, the pressure on pureblood children was so big that more than a few of them had developed the same symptoms and started suffering of eating disorders. At least that's what they were called in the Muggle world according to the briefing Dumbledore had given the staff, the wizarding world hadn't taken enough notice of the problem to develop any other term to describe the illness. In third year the boy in front of her had been admitted to a ward tucked deeply into St. Mungo's. Out of nowhere, the teaching staff had thought, but after careful conversations with his friends they had realized that they had all overlooked the problem for years. To know that they could have helped one of their students avoid so much pain but that they neglected to do so pained the entire staff immensely. Especially Poppy had been beating herself up, Minerva knew.

At the end of third year though, the boy in front of her had come back. He'd seemed healthy and fine and a few months into fourth year the staff had slowly stopped observing him for any signs that he'd been doing worse again. It hadn't been a problem either for several years after, but when she'd looked over her House members last night during dinner, she'd seen something she'd dreaded ever seeing again. All of a sudden everything had seemed to add up: bones protruding from the skin dangerously, cheekbones etched into his otherwise handsome face and an overall unhealthily skinny look. She'd felt faint immediately, realizing that once again they had all neglected to see the signs. Immediately afterwards she'd given a first year Gryffindor a notice to give to Sirius to come and see her in the morning. As he was sitting in front of her she wondered how in hell they could have missed it this time. As he'd started talking, however, she knew that once more she had missed the point entirely.

She'd started the conversation by asking how he was and what his job perspectives looked like. All in all, it had started as a normal conversation she would conduct with sixth year students. When the topic changed to his health, though, he'd closed off. The silence had stretched all too long and she was about to break it when he opened his mouth again. She closed hers and observed how he looked over her office. A small smirk formed on his face when he saw the Quidditch Cup she had on display proudly. The smirk left his face as quickly as it had formed and she was left to wonder if she had imagined it. He took a look at his watch and worried his lip for a moment before looking out the window and opening his mouth again. "It wasn't that bad when I started, of course. I was used to the needles and a girl I knew from the ward hooked me up. I kept eating as instructed so my parents never noticed. They stopped being able to notice after I left this summer."

His eyes caught hers again for a moment and then she knew. The way the boy looked wasn't the result of an eating disorder. He looked the same as multiple individuals she'd seen, scattered through Muggle London. She leaned back into her chair and realized that she was far out of her league. This boy in front of her had developed an addiction. And she didn't know what to do about it.


End file.
